Moments
by MiladyGirl
Summary: A collection of short moments with our Criminal Minds characters, based on songs. Pairings and genres may vary.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

So, battling writer's block… I got a prompt from Annber03; put music device on shuffle and write short fics off the first ten songs. Since it's way past midnight here and I've been at this for hours with this meagre result to show for it, I have to stop at five for tonight, but I wanted to get something up as soon as possible. Also, oh my God it wasn't until I attempted this that I realised my playlist is SO SENTIMENTAL it's just… _how_ do I write something based on these songs? Well... I did my best, OKAY? :D

These are VERY short, which is why I cram five of them into one post/chapter.

Pairings vary.

* * *

 **REO Speedwagon – I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore  
**

 _If I survive this, I'm going straight home to tell her how I feel_ , Morgan had thought as the bullets flew around him like in a hailstorm. _No more wandering, no more fighting these feelings. I know what I want, it's time to stop running away from it._

It was, in some weird way, easy to think like that when you were moments away from death, but it was another thing entirely when back in the safety of Quantico. Still, he had made that promise to himself and he was a man who kept his word.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself before raising a hand to knock. Before he could, the door opened and Penelope Garcia threw her arms around him and pulled him into an embrace that smelled of raspberry tea, flowery perfume and pure, unapologetic affection.

"Thank God you're back in one piece," she whispered, and that was all it took. Derek Morgan stopped fighting his feelings, this time for good.

"Penelope, I have to tell you something. I love you, baby girl."

"I know you do. I love you too."

"I mean, I _love_ you," he repeated. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears and yet she was smiling with her entire face.

"I know you do. And I love you too." She cupped his face with both hands. "Now kiss me."

He did. It was everything he could have wished for and more.

* * *

 **Idina Menzel - You Learn To Live Without**

She had told herself she'd be fine – after all, James was so rarely home either way, it shouldn't be that much different when he had moved out – but she wasn't feeling fine at all. There was, evidently, a vast difference between going to bed a long-distance wife and going to bed a divorcee. Knowing for sure there would be no unexpected goofy message in her inbox, no thirty-second phone call just to say goodnight. No more chances to make good of the phrase "I'll make it up to you later", no happy memories yet to be made.

Over the years, Alex Blake had told several friends that they'd get over the heartache of a divorce, not even _knowing_ how smug she felt deep inside that her own marriage was still intact. Now that it had shattered, like a fragile crystal glass thrown against marble floor, she realised that she had no idea how to get over the heartache herself. There were written guides to this type of life event too, oh yes, manuals and support seminars and "divorce for dummies", but the truth of the matter was that while she knew intellectually that this heartache wasn't going to _kill_ her… well, her heart still ached. It wasn't just a metaphor, it was a literal, actual truth. Her heart ached something awful, making it hard to breathe, to think, making it painful just to plain _exist_.

Maybe in time she'd learn how to live without the one she had thought would be her lifelong partner, like so many before her had, but so far, she had no clue as to how it was done.

* * *

 **Roxette – Dangerous**

"Are you kidding me?" the unsub said as he laid eyes on JJ. He let out a surprised laugh. "Sweetheart, I squash little girls like you with no effort whatsoe- _ufff_!"

The roundhouse kick JJ delivered sent him staggering backwards against a wall of cardboard boxes, which gave way for his weight, and he fell helplessly into the collapsing pile, dropping his weapon on the floor. Morgan took a step forward and kicked it out of reach, but it turned out to be an unnecessary action – the unsub was knocked out cold.

Morgan holstered his gun and looked at the blonde with the wide blue eyes and the innocently girly face. For a moment he simply stared at her as if he saw her for the very first time, but then he began to grin.

"Jennifer Jareau, you are one dangerous woman. I hope I'll never get on your bad side."

JJ kept her stern face, but inwardly she grinned even wider than Morgan. Sometimes it was difficult to be taken seriously in this field when you looked like a sweet girl – but it was also the best disguise you could possibly ask for in sharp moments.

* * *

 **Celine Dion – Right In Front Of You**

It took years to build up, both parts unknowing of the power in a collection of innocent moments, a mighty castle built on jokes and laughs and understanding glances and pranks and serious talks.

To outsiders it may have seemed like it came out of nowhere, but anyone with insight would have seen it, building little by little, like an oyster little by little builds a pearl from what started out as an irritating grain of sand.

It was just that one morning you looked up and realised that what you had spent a lifetime searching for was there all along, right in front of you. And it was the greatest blessing, that the other one had the same dawning realisation at the same time.

And that was how it suddenly came to be that Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid started dating.

( **A/N:** this is the first and only M/M thing I've written, and it was ONLY because AnnBer03 once said she thought I _could_ do it. So I had to prove her wrong and show I _can't_. And now I'm not sure if proved her or myself wrong. Quite frustrating.)

* * *

 **Def Leppard – Love Bites**

"Testing out new fashion trends, or just feeling cold?" Rossi asked, his voice amused, as he sat down. Hotch's hand wandered up to the turtleneck for a moment, then he seemed to lower it with physical force.

"Neither. Laundry day," he murmured and kept his eyes on the file he was reading.

"Uh-huh," Rossi said. "I guess my assumption that you had an endless supply of white shirts was wrong, then."

"Guess it was," Hotch replied, and his hand once more went up to fiddle with the collar.

"That's a new. I remember back in the old days, even then there was always a spare shirt or two tucked away…" Rossi said, carefully – and with an annoyingly smug look on his face – monitoring his old friend's reactions. Hotch didn't give any visual reactions, but he felt he was starting to sweat a little.

"Or maybe…" Rossi went on as he reached out to pull down the turtleneck and expose Hotch's neck, "… you're trying to hide something." He chuckled. "Bingo. Wanna tell me who gave you that hickey? Oh, that's interesting... bite marks? This I _need_ to hear about. Tell me."

Hotch glared at him and pulled back.

"No."

"That's okay, I'll just profile it. I know you're straight, so it's a woman. I know it happened in the past twelve hours because that's as long as we've been away from this godforsaken place – which is rather sad in itself, if you want my opinion – and I know she has long brown hair, because there is one of those stuck to your lapel at this moment."

Hotch looked down and indeed, there was a long dark hair stuck to his lapel. He quickly removed it and tried to maintain an indifferent face. It was getting difficult.

"And there's a vague whiff of her perfume coming off your jacket. Obsession by Calvin Klein, to be more specific. I know a brunette who favours that perfume and who left the building at the same time you did."

"Dave," Hotch hissed between his teeth. Rossi leaned back in his chair, turning his head towards the door just as the next team member walked in.

"Morning, Blake."

She momentarily stopped, looked from one to the other, accurately read the situation and shook her head in response.

"I'm taking the Fifth Amendment on this one, just so you know."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

Okay, I got caught up with some life stuff so I couldn't write at all yesterday. But here is the second part. And I think I'll keep this an open thread rather than calling it complete after these ten. If I write a drabble on a song prompt in the future, I'll put it in here. :)

I may have to apologise for my all-over-the-place taste in music… but I won't. :D (also, I've only used songs in English so far, although my playlist includes songs in eight other languages. No, I don't actually speak nine languages. LOL)

* * *

 **Depeche Mode – Enjoy The Silence**

"Isn't it very quiet today?" JJ mused openly, then clasped her hand over her mouth as Reid glared at her. "Sorry. I wasn't poking fun, honest."

"Yes, it's very peaceful and quiet today," Morgan said, and he _was_ poking fun. "No speeches about various statistics and useless facts. I wonder why that is?"

Reid made eye contact with Blake and said something in sign language. She laughed out loud, nodded and signed something back.

"What are you two talking about?" Morgan asked, sounding suspicious. Blake offered him a pleasant smile while keeping one eye on Reid's signing.

"Never mind. You just implied that you enjoyed the silence, didn't you?"

Morgan's jaw dropped.

"Well, we deserved that burn," JJ told him. "It's no fun losing your voice."

Blake signed something to Reid, who burst out into a raspy, hoarse laughter.

"I don't know, he seems to be pretty entertained either way," Morgan muttered.

* * *

 **Nelly Furtardo – All Good Things Come To An End**

"I know I'm supposed to be happy for you and wish you all the best, and I will," JJ said, struggling with tears. She had promised herself she wouldn't cry when this moment came, and yet she knew that had been a promise made in vain. "But honestly I don't know if I can make it with you off the team."

Emily gave her a sad smile and pulled her into her arms.

"You will make it. And we'll still keep in touch, it's not like I'll be dead." She rolled her eyes. "Not this time."

JJ let out a sound that sounded like a mixture of a chuckle and a sob.

"I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm gonna miss you too."

"It sucks how the good things never last."

"I know," Emily sighed. "But while it did last, you have to admit we squeezed out every last drop of joy from it, and that's all anyone can do. Especially in our field of work."

"Yeah." She hugged her friend again as the last passengers of the flight to England began heading towards the gate. "Have a safe trip."

As Emily let go of her, JJ noticed that her tough friend was crying as well.

* * *

 **Westlife – When You're Looking Like That**

( **A/N** I apparently very much want to break up Blake and her husband. Sorry. But I never liked that guy one bit.)

"What is it now?" Garcia said, grabbing Blake's arm as the brunette tried to make a run for it. "You look great, we're not going to hook you up with anyone, we're just going to have a good time. You've been withdrawn way too long, it's time you get over…"

" _James_ …!" Blake hissed and tried to hide her face.

"Yes, James," Garcia said, and then her eyes widened behind her glasses as she caught on. "Oh my God, he's here?"

"Yes!" Blake squeaked and tried to drag JJ and Garcia with her to the exit. JJ looked back over her shoulder, recognising the man who had given her friend so much heartache. He sat alone by a table with a beer that he had hardly touched, checking out the women walking by his table, but not looking like he enjoyed himself one bit. JJ scoffed.

"Doesn't exactly look like he has the time of his life."

"Can we please leave before he spots me?" Blake pleaded. Garcia pursed her lips and gave the older woman a once-over.

"No way. Not when you're looking like that. He needs to see you like that."

"Wha- what do you mean? Let's go!"

"And you need to be seen by him. I bet since you rarely saw each other the last couple of years, when you did, it was either in stay-at-home clothes or work clothes, am I right?"

"What does that have to do w-"

"And even if you did bother to dress up, I bet you haven't worn this type of outfit in twenty years or so."

"I haven't worn an outfit like this since before James and I even started _dating_!"

Garcia smiled.

"Good. Come on."

"But he's going to think I'm just desperate to go home with someone."

"Hm, you have a point. So, tonight you're dating _me_." Garcia said and snaked an arm around Blake's waist, smiling at the confused linguist. "Oh don't look so surprised, you're secretly in love with me; everyone is."

Blake smiled and allowed Garcia to steer her towards the bar.

"You're probably right," she said, her remark open to interpretation.

As they passed by James's table, he knocked the beer over when he turned to stare. But his ex-wife didn't look back for a moment.

* * *

 **Whitesnake – Is This Love**

It had started out as a simple flirt. He was good at that, David Rossi, flirting and yet keep things on a professional, gentlemanly level. In the beginning, Erin Strauss had suspected he was just doing it to butter her up, making her give some extra leeway for the BAU to 'go rogue' as she called it.

Oh, she was flattered, it wasn't that. But she wasn't going to let her need for validation and simple physical urges to get in the way of her professionalism; she was the Section Chief and with that title came responsibilities. It was not responsible behaviour to throw yourself into the arms of the first man who wasn't intimidated by your power.

But she had warmed up to his attentions, little by little. It was so easy with him; no strings attached, there was no pressure or judgment, only good fun. Sometimes very _dirty_ fun, she had to admit that much, but also the innocent pleasures of cooking together, going to art exhibitions, sometimes stargazing in the garden of his mansion. Not once did he forget himself and offer her any form of alcohol – in fact, when in her company he never touched the drink himself - and that was the strongest indication she could think of that he sincerely cared about her.

This evening, as he drove her home after a wonderful dinner, Strauss wondered if this was love. Her entire being seemed to scream _yes_ , but she wasn't sure if she read the signs correctly. Then she wondered why she had to put a name on it. She was happy, for the first time in many years, and if what she had with this man fit the definition of love or if it was something that only reminded of it, what did it matter?

She decided it didn't.

Then, when he parked the car outside her house and leaned in for a goodnight kiss, she wondered why the question had even surfaced. Yes. This was love, in its easiest, simplest, strongest shape. And just as she tried to catch her breath after the kiss so she could say it, he took the words right out of her mouth.

"I love you."

Overwhelmed by emotions – all of them good - Erin Strauss began to cry.

* * *

 **Simon and Garfunkel – Mrs. Robinson**

( **A/N** I may have laughed so hard I spat on my shirt when this one came on. I apologise to everyone who can see Blake/Reid as mother/son only. You may want to close your eyes for this one. Also, in this universe, there was never a Maeve).

"I always suspected you'd go for an older woman, you're a bit too smart for most women your own age," Morgan said.

"What do you mean?" Reid asked casually, sipping his coffee and giving his friend and colleague the most innocent look he could possibly muster.

"You can't fool me, pretty boy. You've acted weird ever since the new addition to the team arrived, and the past couple of weeks, so has she."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mm-hmm. I might believe you if I didn't have the hotel room across the corridor from yours." Morgan chuckled. "You're _loud_ , man. And so is she."

"I don't know who you're referring to," Reid replied, as stubborn as ever, but with a slight blush creeping up his neck.

Morgan decided he had tormented the younger team member enough for the time being, stood up and patted his shoulder.

"I'm referring to your Mrs. Robinson, of course."

"Alex is only seventeen years older than…" he cut himself off so suddenly it was as if he had bitten his tongue right off. "Uh, I mean…"

Morgan's cell phone rang before he could tease his friend further, and he picked it up. "Hey Blake, what have you got?"

"A new nickname, it seems," the agent in question said from the doorway. She hung up and crossed her arms. "I hope you're not implying I'm cradle robbing."

"Sorry," Morgan said, and he meant it. He could see that Blake had taken offense. "I was just messing with Reid."

She nodded and smiled, but somehow still looked serious.

"Sometimes you're messing with him so much that you forget he's a grown man. I have a little brother, I think I experience something similar with him."

Morgan let it sink in for a moment.

"You may be right."

"Of course she's right!" Reid said. Morgan turned to him and grinned.

"Oh, you are _head over heels_ , kid!" He accidentally caught Blake's eye again. "Uh… I'll go and check if the fingerprints analysis is finished yet."

Blake and Reid both kept their serious faces until Morgan had disappeared, then they simultaneously started cracking up.

"Mrs Robinson, huh?" Blake said.

"I don't know, I kind of like it. I might call you that tonight."

"Now, what's wrong with 'Professor' and 'Doctor Blake'? All my other students call me that."

"I hope they're not getting the same lessons I do."

"Good point."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**

I decided to try if I could get some drabble inspiration tonight. I'm really scared about what's happening in the world right now and I expected tonight's writing to reflect that, but instead this was the result. Maybe it's banal, cheesy stuff, but honestly… I think right now, we need all the platitudes of "love conquers all" that we can get.

* * *

 **Celine Dion – L'Amour Existe Encore (Love Still Exists)**

"Are we really making any difference? Is there a point to keep fighting to keep what little light there is, when darkness keeps getting in everywhere, when shadows steal what used to be illuminated? Maybe we should just let go and give in. Maybe the dark isn't as bad as we think it is."

Brown eyes fleetingly meet blue, then the older woman looks down into her drink instead, as if ashamed to even express this kind of doubt. JJ reaches out and puts her hand on Alex's shoulder.

"But what if it's worse?" she says quietly.

"And what if we can't stand up against it?"

"We have before. We can do it again. As long as we don't lose sight of what really drives us to do what we do; love, compassion and justice."

"I'm tired, JJ. I feel like no matter how much we do, we never do enough. Sometimes I want a simple quick-fix. Just cut the Gordian knot."

"Sometimes I want the same thing. But those selling quick-fixes always lie."

"Yeah. Quick-fixes, like this one, tend to leave you with a headache and a bad taste in the mouth the next day." She knocks the drink back as if she's a cowboy. JJ expects her to grimace the way everyone would after a stunt like that – it wasn't a modest little whiskey shot Alex had in her glass – but she keeps a straight face, almost as if she simply took a drink of water. "I still wish there was one, though."

"I think we all do." JJ's warm hand slides down her arm in a gentle caress. "Are you coming to bed?"

"I'm not in the mood to fool around."

"Neither am I. But I _am_ in the mood to hold you. Also, I believe right now you need some proof."

Alex smiles faintly.

"Proof of what?"

"That there is still love in the world."

She holds out her hand. After a brief pause, Alex takes it.

* * *

 **Anna – Like They Do In The Movies**

Garcia talked excitedly about the movie they had just been watching, chatting away as they walked down the road towards the parking lot. Morgan laughed at her spot-on observations about the characters – sometimes he thought she was every bit the profiler the rest of the team were, or even more – and enjoyed the sound of her voice, the life-force radiating from her in warm waves, and just knowing that she was there. Right there. Next to him. He found himself stealing quick glances of her, of the voluminous blonde locks and the gentle, sparkling brown eyes behind the glasses, the full lips painted a red that would look vulgar on other women but looked just right on Penelope Garcia. _Innocent,_ even. The soft brightness from the lamplights hit her like a spotlight, illuminating a one-woman show, and he suddenly realised that she was a one-woman show because she was the _only_ woman he ever really saw.

"Penelope," he said, interrupting her as she was gushing about how the leading ladies were always so beautiful. She fell silent, looking up at him with a smile, and that was it. It was impossible to pretend any more. "You're the leading lady in my life."

"Wh-what?"

"I want to kiss you, baby girl. Just like they do in the movies."

"You're not kidding me now, are you?" she asked, but he could tell that there was a hint of worry in her voice.

"I doubt Johnny Depp has this problem when he approaches a girl," Morgan sighed, but there was still a smile on his face and his eyes monitored her reactions closely – he didn't want to scare her, he'd back away immediately if that was her response, even if it broke his heart, and it would. Fortunately, that was not the way this fairytale would end.

"Maybe not, but I don't wanna kiss Johnny Depp," she replied breathlessly. "But I _do_ want to kiss you, Derek Morgan, so don't you dare go back on your word now."

He cupped her face in both hands and leaned so close their foreheads touched.

"I will never go back on my word to you, Penelope Garcia," he said and then he kissed her.

And he kissed her just like did in the close-ups.


	4. Chapter 4

**Reuploaded because I added a new drabble and it seemed unnecessary to have two chapters with just a single drabble in each, when I've had several per chapter before.**

* * *

 **A/N**

So I've kind of been toying with an idea for a fic about a not-particularly-equal relationship between Blake and Strauss back when Blake was just requited to the FBI. It hasn't made it past the idea stage yet, but this song sparked an image of Blake, post-Amerithrax, finally recovering from the abusive relationship with Strauss.

 **The Veronicas – You Ruin Me**

I really was your masterpiece, wasn't I? Created in your image, polished into perfection, and taught to obey your every whim. Perhaps I had a choice, yes, maybe I could have walked away from the start, but if it doesn't seem like a choice to begin with, it merely melds into habit and training.

You had me in discipline so rigid I was trembling with eagerness to obey. My own need to please you in any way possible was the harness you kept me in, a single glance could promise a reprimand so hurtful I could already feel it. It was never the words you said, it was the tone you used. It was the punishment your eyes could convey, and how a smile alone could be a warning of what would follow once we were alone.

 _Danger._

 _High voltage._

 _Thin ice._

 _Dead end._

I tried to be the best you ever had. I tried to make you proud. In time, I realised that was not possible, so I settled for not making you upset with me. I climbed the ranks and I thought you would be pleased. Then I spent secret nights on your floor, on my bare knees, receiving reprimands for working when I was supposed to meet you at the hotel.

I was a puppet and you pulled my every string, you kept me hanging and then you yanked me back.

Then you cut my rope and walked away.

And now, ten years of painful recovery later, you say you want to _make amends!_

Oh, how I want to believe this time it would be different. I really, truly want to believe that. But I remember the fear of not being enough, and I can't. Because you see, Erin, I am finally enough for me… but I will never be enough for you.

* * *

 **A/N**

Takes place at the ending of "Magnificent Light" in season 8. That was _yet_ another wasted opportunity when it comes to Morgan and Garcia…

 **Joana Zimmer – When We Dance**

"I'd like to think I could have persuaded you to go even if I hadn't gotten Mr Flynn to lend you his Ferrari," Garcia murmured as Morgan returned to the table after giving his speech.

Morgan chuckled and shook his head.

"In your dreams, baby girl."

"Uh-oh, I'm not wasting dreams on _that_ , there are very different things happening in my dreams," Garcia returned with a sly grin, though she was well aware that she was balancing on the edge now. They always walked a thin line with their flirty banter, instinctively knowing how far they could go, but for a moment she wondered if she had crossed that unspoken barrier now.

"Such as?" Morgan shot back, and even though his voice was still playful, there _had_ been a change of pace. So subtle it was almost unnoticeable, but yes, it was there. Suddenly it wasn't just an innocent game anymore. It had started a transformation into something else, and the ground of this unknown land was shaky. Garcia was suddenly aware of the raw, surging power that they created between each other, really, fully aware of it, and it was a bit frightening.

But most of all, it was alluring.

"I'll tell you if you dance with me," she said.

He stood up almost as if he had expected her to say that.

"That would be my pleasure, my Queen," he said and held out his hand.

Once at the dance floor, Garcia leaned into the aura of warmth and wonderful, masculine scent radiating from him, and whispered something in his ear. Morgan's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then a cocky smile spread across his face.

"Oh that is definitely a dream I'd like to join," he replied.

"Don't worry, you're already in it."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're suggesting we leave the party now."

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting."

"Let's go then," he said and placed his hand in the small of her back as he escorted her out of the hall and to the car.

Sometimes, dreams do come true. All you have to do is wake up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Alan Jackson – Tequila Sunrise**

When she came to, she found herself staring at an enormous plush toy. It looked like a pink Mount Everest from her viewpoint. The next thing she was aware of was a splitting headache digging its sharp claws into her brain, made even worse by the rising sun peeking through the window.

 _Oh God. What the hell did I do yesterday? And where_ am _I?_

"Oh look who's awake," a voice spoke from somewhere above. Garcia.

"I wish I wasn't," Emily Prentiss groaned and very carefully tried to sit up. She was on a couch, sharing it with several pillows and plush toys in various colours. She assumed she was at Garcia's place.

"No, I wouldn't want to be Emily Prentiss today," Garcia said with a smug grin.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't remember much from yesterday, do you?"

"I don't remember _anything_."

"You don't remember dirty-dancing with Chocolate Thunder? Because that _should_ be memorable."

"I did _what_?!" Prentiss shouted and immediately winced as her own loud voice made her head hurt even worse.

"No, I'm just kidding," Garcia said.

"You are one cruel woman," Prentiss muttered and rubbed her temples. "So what did I do?"

"Tequila shots. Lots and lots of them. I think you had a bet going with Rossi, but I'm not sure, that part of the night is pretty vague for me too," Garcia replied.

Trying to find some functioning piece of memory, the only thing Prentiss could remember with absolute clarity was saying 'That's nothing, take a look at _this_ party trick!' and the only party trick she knew was that Tequila trick she had been famous for back at her college days. No wonder she paid for that today.

"I'll put on some coffee," Garcia said. "Do you want breakfast?"

Prentiss made the mistake of thinking about eating, and started swallowing convulsively. As if she had expected it, Garcia handed her a bucket just a moment before she threw up.

"I'll take that as a no."

* * *

 **Julie Andrews & Dick van Dyke – Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious **

"I have a feeling he's talking nonsense because he's got nothing to say and tries to hide that," Morgan sighed as he came back after trying to interview the suspect.

"He could make it far easier on himself and just say 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'," Rossi remarked.

"Super- _what_?"

"You illiterate kid, haven't you seen Mary Poppins?"

"Mary Poppins wasn't exactly part of my childhood," Morgan said. "What does it mean, more specifically?"

"It's something you say when you've got nothing to say," Rossi enlightened him.

"Actually," Blake said, "if you break it down, it's super – above, cali- beauty, fragilistic – delicate, expiali – to atone, docious – educable. So combined it would roughly say 'atoning for educability through delicate beauty'."

Morgan gave her a blank stare. Rossi chuckled.

"Blake is right."

"Well, Blake and I obviously don't speak the same language," Morgan said, giving Blake a look that was partly apologetic and partly amused. "Try again when you can quote Nas."

He started to suspect he hadn't put her on thin ice as much as he had put himself there when his new colleague – whom he seriously thought seemed like the type who only listened to classic music – slowly began to smile. A very genuine and very smug smile.

"Which song would you like me to quote? 'I Can'? 'If I Ruled The World'? 'The Message'?"

Morgan seemed to be struck by lightning for a moment before he recovered.

"Whoa, there is more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" he said.

"Oh yes. Lots more." She winked at him, so briefly he wasn't sure if she had or if he had just imagined it. Before he could come to a consensus with himself on the matter, Blake had turned to Rossi, pointing to the interrogation room.

"I'm going in."

As she went, Morgan gave Rossi a puzzled glance. The older man chuckled.

"You can't smooth-talk this lady. She's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. In the _strongest_ sense of the word."

"I still don't understand that word."

"You still don't understand _Alex Blake_ , do you?"

Morgan sighed loudly.

"No, you're right, I don't."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

Just one for now. I kind of needed this myself, I didn't even know I did before I had written it.

* * *

 **Enrique Iglesias – Rhythm Divine**

Of course it was to blame on the drink. And the drink in turn was to blame on the immense relief that they had gotten out of the danger alive and unharmed, as well as saving all the abducted children out of the barn before the fire had consumed it. It had been one of the few cases where Garcia had accompanied the team, and in the moment of truth she had been paired up with the one team member she had the hardest time understanding; Blake. But when really put to the test, it turned out the two very different women strengthened each other's' weaknesses. It was almost like a dance, when neither part was sure who was leading and who followed; it simply clicked into place perfectly as if the dancers were one.

Garcia, who was the case's rightful hero, had gotten to pick the place where the team would celebrate, and true to character she had picked a karaoke bar that just so happened to have Latino night.

"Do we get to see those skills you've bragged about since we got here?" Blake teased as she handed Garcia yet another drink.

"What skills?" Morgan asked, nearly sounding jealous.

"I've had way too much paella and drinks to show off," Garcia replied.

" _What_ _skills_?" Morgan persisted, sending a glare Blake's way. The older woman smirked as she turned back to Garcia.

"Yes, what skills? If you can't show them, I'm not particularly inclined to believe you."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Garcia replied, her eyes gleaming behind the glasses. Blake tossed her hair back and groaned.

"I'm far too drunk for that."

"Too bad. I knew you were exaggerating. It was too good to be true."

In the part of her brain that was still somewhat sober, Blake knew she was being baited, but she couldn't help taking it. _Nobody_ would imply that she lied about talents she actually possessed.

"If I make a fool out of myself, it's on you," she warned her colleague as she shoved her drink into the hands of a surprised David Rossi and then strode up to the DJ. Morgan looked briefly at her, then turned his focus back to Garcia.

"What are you ladies up to?"

"Sch, watch and learn," Garcia replied, handing her drink over to JJ. Soon enough the first tones of Enrique Iglesias' "Rhythm Divine" floated into the air. She started moving her hips in rhythm to the music. Morgan couldn't take his eyes off her, which she noticed. Smiling, she held out her hands to him and he took her up on the invite.

"Do you know this dance?" Garcia asked as she had his broad-shouldered, masculine-smelling presence well within her personal space.

"No," he chuckled.

"Mm. Just follow my lead, and feel the rhythm."

They were too focused on each other to really pay attention to Blake when she took the microphone, but the rest of the team nearly got a collective whiplash injury turning in her direction when she started singing. For a moment, she nearly faltered and shied away from the attention, then a side glance at Garcia, who was _finally_ in the arms of Derek Morgan, persuaded her to go on. Garcia had deserved that dance for so long; had waited so patiently for it for so long.

Blake closed her eyes and let the music overtake her. This was her secret; she never sang in public although she knew she could carry a tune and do it well. It didn't fit with the serious agent/professor persona she had built up. But what the hell, if the team knew each other's personal weaknesses, it didn't hurt that they knew each other's personal strengths either.

Rossi turned to Hotch.

"Do you think this song works as a duet?"

"Yes I do," Hotch replied very pointedly. Rossi shoved his own and Blake's drinks into his friend's hands and made his way across the dancefloor up to the brunette singing about getting lost in the music.

As he approached her, Blake opened her eyes, and her features softened visibly as she smiled and reached out a hand to welcome him.

He was going to make the most out of this welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

**Andrea Bocelli – Can't Help Falling In Love**

 **A/N** : After tending to my sick horse for a few days (she's better now), I guess my mind was still in the horse neigh-bourhood. .P (Oh God, that was bad even for me).

* * *

Keeping a healthy safety distance to the large animal pawing away at the ground, Blake tried to focus on talking to the young girl grooming it. The girl, Amy, couldn't be more than fifteen, petite little thing, and she was bent down dangerously close to one ironclad hoof of an animal that had to be at least six feet tall. Blake found herself nervously fiddling with her cell phone in case she'd have to call 911. The girl didn't seem at all concerned; in fact, when the horse stomped the ground, she gave it a little smack;

"Knock it off, Jim."

The name was so unexpected – Blake had guessed an animal like this was named Devil or Thunderclap or something else intimidating – that she lost her train of thought for a moment.

"His name is _Jim_?"

Amy straightened up and ran an affectionate hand through the creature's thick mane.

"Yeah. Well. It's short for Jiminy Cricket."

Blake momentarily closed her eyes. _Jiminy Cricket. Seriously._

"Of course. Seems… fitting."

"You never hung out at a barn as a kid, did you?" Amy giggled.

"Uh, no," Blake said, looking around for Rossi to come and save her, but unfortunately he was busy speaking to a woman, probably the mother or big sister of this girl, given their close resemblance.

"Come here," Amy said.

"No, it's alright, I'm fine over here," Blake replied, holding up both hands in averting gesture.

"I thought FBI agents weren't afraid of anything," Amy said, shrugging a little. "I mean, going after serial killers and terrorists and stuff. Guess I was wrong."

Blake looked in Rossi's direction again, but he walked off with the other woman, leaving her with one child, one monster, and the prospect of either imminent death or forever being branded a coward. Amy looked at her with amusement.

"It's not gonna bite me, I hope," Blake said as she threw caution to the wind and took a couple of hesitant steps closer; almost close enough to touch the animal's smooth neck.

"Nope."

Blake very slowly reached out one hand, embarrassed to notice that it was shaking a little, and touched the shiny black neck. It was smooth under her fingertips, almost like silk. She ran her hand across the fur several times. Amy dug through her pockets and took out a carrot. Upon the sight, the horse's ears perked up in interest.

"Give it to him with open hand," Amy said, shoving the carrot into Blake's hand. "No, he won't bite," she answered the unspoken concern.

Blake fed the carrot to the horse almost in a daze, mesmerised by the gentleness in its dark eyes. When he chewed, she gently touched the white spot on his forehead.

"I've never been this close to an animal this size," she said. "It's…" She shook her head. "Wow. He has very beautiful eyes."

"Yes, he does. Wanna ride him?"

"That's not quite what I'm here for, but thanks for the offer. So, you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary on the night in question? Other than the horses being unsettled?"

"No," Amy said. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Blake said, realising she was still stroking the horse's muzzle, and had to force herself to withdraw her hand as the girl clucked at the horse and began leading him out to the pasture.

She stood looking after them for a long time, until Rossi suddenly spoke behind her, making her jump.

"None of the staff saw a thing either, so our unsub probably just passed through the barn. What's with you, Alex?"

She blinked, visibly snapping back to reality.

"What?"

Rossi grinned.

"I do believe the lady is falling in love."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Oh I've seen the girl-meets-horse thing before. I took Garcia to the race track once."

"With all due respect, Garcia falls in love with every creature on Earth. I'm not like that."

"Okay…" he said, looking down at her hands, still sticky with a combination of horse drool, pieces of carrot, and horse hair. "If you say so. There are wet wipes in the car if you need to clean your hands."

Blake looked defiantly at him but couldn't think of an answer, so she just walked past him towards the car. Rossi chuckled. Oh, how Blake hated it when someone caught her being emotional. And how emotional she secretly was…!

* * *

 **Alphaville – Forever Young**

Aaron Hotchner looked out the window of the jet, into the darkness of the Midwestern night. Most of the team were asleep; JJ had been the first to take a blanket and curl up in the back of the plane, Morgan had surrendered to sleep about half an hour later. Blake and Reid had tried to stay awake and play some online word game with each other, but were now asleep in their seats, Reid leaning his head on Blake's shoulder. It reminded Hotch of long drives when Jack would fall asleep with his head resting on Hayley. Blake had been good for Reid after the events surrounding Maeve. JJ had always been taking on the motherly role a little, but she was too close in age to really be able to offer that maternal maturity that Reid – whether he knew it himself or not – needed.

Hotch sighed. It was easy to forget that Reid too had gotten older; to the old-timers in the team he was still a kid, although he was older now than Hotch and Rossi had been when they first started working with profiling.

Rossi put a tumbler of fine whisky down in front of him, rousing him from his thoughts.

"You were far away," he remarked in a low voice and took a seat. "Care to share?"

"It just struck me how young we were when we started doing this," he said. "It seems impossible."

"That we were ever that young?" Rossi asked. Hotch scoffed.

"Something like that. It's been quite the journey, hasn't it?"

Rossi nodded.

"It certainly has. You know what I find most remarkable about it?"

Hotch raised his eyebrows.

"That you and I are still doing this job, together, after all these years."

Hotch smiled one of his rare smiles.

"I think it's just the fact that we're still here at all, considering all we've encountered."

Rossi nodded thoughtfully.

"That, too. What's a couple of grey hairs and wrinkles, but proof you've met your share of challenges and lived to tell the tale? And hopefully learned something that will be useful in the future."

"There is one thing I never seem to learn, though," Hotch said as he emptied his drink.

"Oh? What's that?"

"If I drink this stuff at night, I'm going to fall asleep."

Rossi grinned.

"Why do you think I poured you some? You need the sleep, Aaron. We can't stay forever young without getting rest."

"You know me far too well."

"That's mutual. Let's get some shuteye."

Hotch agreed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Avicii – Hey Brother**

 **A/N**

This is inspired by/takes place at the end of the episode "Bully", when the team have barbecue at Blake's dad's place. I don't have a brother, so the brother/sister dynamic is something I'm not familiar with, but… given how mad they were at each other in the beginning of the episode, well… you only get that kind of annoyed with people you love. And I _do_ have a sister. XD

* * *

"This is why we never had nice things growing up," Alex said, making a sweeping gesture towards the backyard, where Scott (with the help of Morgan) had knocked over most of the preparations for the barbecue. The baseball they had chased now crowned the potato salad, like some kind of honorary potato. Scott looked at his sister with a sheepish and yet at the same time playful grin on his face.

"Well, to be fair, I was…" Morgan began, but Scott punched him on the arm to shut him up.

"Don't. Trust me. I grew up with her. It gets worse if you admit it. If you don't, you _might_ get out of it unscathed, I have."

Alex's eyes narrowed.

"If you're referring to the issues of Cosmo that magically vanished from my room that summer when I was seventeen, I'm _well_ aware what happened to them."

Scott winced, and Alex chuckled.

"Actually, I wasn't, but your face just told me. But I've always known who put the snake in my cheerleading outfit."

Morgan choked on his beer.

" _You_ were a cheerleader?"

"No."

"Somebody told her she wasn't flexible enough so she had to prove them wrong. She dropped out two days after securing a place on the team," Scott explained, then turned to Alex again. "And I swear I had _nothing_ to do with that lizard."

"I said snake. How would you have known it was a lizard if you weren't the one who put it there?"

"Goddamnit Alex!" Scott groaned. She smiled sweetly and patted his cheek so hard it was almost a slap.

"I'm always a step ahead of you, little brother. Clean up your mess now."

Scott sighed, thinking he was at least off the hook. Then he took a drink from his beer, dropped the plastic cup and screamed like a little girl. Morgan looked at the cup on the ground, bent down, and picked up a plastic spider in the spilled beer.

"The one thing I wonder right now is where you got this," he said to Blake. She gave him a brilliant smile that knocked decades off her face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

As if on cue, the siblings' father appeared in the doorway, carrying the meat and hot dogs. He surveyed the chaos, and, without missing a beat, said;

"Scott, you clean up everything you boys knocked over when messing around with that baseball, including the baseball, then go change your shirt. And Alex?"

Blake shrunk.

"Yes, dad?"

"Stop scaring your brother with those spiders. You're forty-seven and a half, don't you think you're a bit too old for that?"

He turned to Morgan.

"And you, dear sir, go help your girlfriend with the salad."

"Uh, Garcia is not my girlfrie…"

"Go."

Morgan went, looking almost dumbfounded. Alex had a similar look on her face.

"Dad, she isn't his…"

"Yes, she is. They just haven't figured it out yet."

Alex locked eyes with her brother. Scott shrugged.

"Well, dad is always right."

"Yeah," she sighed, and added under her breath; "I _hate_ that."

"That makes two of us, sis," he said, patted her gently on the shoulder, slipped the plastic spider down the back of her blouse, and then ran like hell.

* * *

 **Savage Garden – I Want You**

A stone face could hide emotions hot as lava, and in Hotch's case it certainly did. He had sworn he would keep it to himself, the last thing he wanted was to complicate the delicate dynamics of the team, put the teamwork in jeopardy, or unsettle her in any way.

He hoped it never came across as ogling, but he had to admit, if only to himself, that he did steal glances of her when she wasn't looking. Not in an inappropriate way, at least not too inappropriate, but yes, those glances did last a bit too long. Sometimes maybe they covered a bit too much ground.

He kept telling himself there were a million reasons to stay away and no excuses to get closer. He kept telling himself the last thing she needed in the aftermath of her separation was an affair with her older boss. He kept telling himself to stay overworked to avoid thinking too much about how much he wanted her.

Until one evening, JJ stepped into his office, closed the door behind her and said;

"Haven't we waited long enough to admit this?"

And he realised that he had been so absorbed in trying to hide his feelings, that he – the top profiler – had missed all the signs that his feelings were returned.

Luckily, that could be fixed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Gummy Bear - The Gummy Bear Song**

Dialogue drabble, a desperate mid-night attempt at breaking this writer's block and all in all funk.

Changed the song to something even more annoyingly catchy. :P

* * *

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Humming."

"I'm not humming."

"Yes, you are. Just stop it."

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Keep not doing anything."

"Jesus, Blake, relax."

"Morgan, I'm serious, stop it."

"Sorry!"

* * *

(…)

"You're doing it again."

"No I'm not… oh, yeah, I am. Sorry. I didn't even realise."

"You know, I would gag you but unfortunately you can still hum with your mouth full."

"Whoa, _that_ was a comment I'd be more comfortable hearing from Garcia..."

"What do you me-… oh."

"Hm, do you think it would help if I sing the lyrics out loud?"

"No, oh, _no no_ , don't let that abomination of a song out in the open…!"

* * *

(…)

"Thanks, Morgan."

"You know, it helped, I got it out of my head now, I think."

"Good. I'm glad. Because now it's stuck in _mine_.


End file.
